The Case of the Chestnut Theif
by JoKuL FrOsTi
Summary: lol so this is just a funny little oneshot my DAD came up with in a car ride. so... Christmas carol and Sherlock holmes cross ovr. just a funny little skit that I hope makes you laugh! when someone steals the treats Bob Cratchit bought for Tiny Tim, and he enlists the help of Sherlock Holmes, who will the theif be and will they recover the treats? XD


**Hey guys, just wanted to say… imagination is a beautiful thing. It is something every child possesses. It is a main component of childhood. Unfortunately, only sometimes, rarely, does it stay with you in adulthood. However, it stays sometimes, and one of the adults I know who stills has his child like imagination is my father. When we were in the car on our way to the movies, Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Christmas Eve came on. This is my father's story. He spun this beautiful tale whilst driving to the theatre. Enjoy. ^^**

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The lateness of the time and the lowness of the hidden sun cast a ghost blue light about the brick buildings. Fog hung heavily like old coats in the street, the flickering light of street lamps like fireflies. People moved about, mere shadows.

"Care to stay for supper tonight old chap?" asked Cratchit, to his friend who walked with a slight limp and a cane. "If it is no trouble dear friend. I have been missing your wife's cooking. And how is my dear Tiny Tim?" "Oi, he's getting big." The elderly man laughed. They continued their slow trek down the cobblestone street.

"Chestnuts! Get 'em nice an warm!" Called a man who stood behind a push cart. Cratchit stopped momentarily and fiddled with the change in his patched pocket. "I'll buy some for Tim." He mumbled. Handing the man the change, he took into his gloved hands steaming hot paper bag with a tasty treat inside. It helped to keep his hands warm. The two friends continued on their way. But not for long…

The quick tapping of running feet on cobblestone reached their ears. Out of nowhere, a shadow blew past them. The warmth in Cratchit's hand was gone. "Stop! Thief!" he yelled after the shadow. Abandoning his friend, Bob Cratchit ran after the shadow.

Cobble street after Cobble Street they ran, the shadow with an Imp-like giggle always a step ahead. Being in middle age, and slightly plump, it was not long till his sides and legs began to burn. He slowed down, and watched in despair as the shadow and its laughs faded away. Looking around, he spotted something familiar. A street sign. That read in white letters "Baker Street" he smiled, breathing heavily, and searched for a black door that was numbered 221B. Finding it, he hobbled over to it and knocked loudly.

"Ello bob old chap! What brings you by so late?" asked the older man at the door. "Not now John. Please say that Sherlock is in." "That he is. But what is this about?" "I have been accosted by a thief and have chased him to this street. I require your assistance." The good doctor's eyes widened and he called for Holmes. Not a moment later, the three men set out to find and bring to justice the Chestnut Thief. Holmes led them to their thief like a bloodhound after its prey.

After some time of running, they caught up to the shadow. In Kensington Gardens is where they cornered him. Sherlock, the youngest and fastest of the trio, ran up to, and grabbed the thief. They tossed around a bit, till Sherlock overpowered him. He tossed him to the ground.

"There is your thief Bob!"

"The Chestnuts! Where are the Chestnuts?"

Sherlock knelt down, and recovered the red and white striped bag.

"No need to panic Bob, they are safe and sound."

"Oh, thank the lord!"

"Now, to reveal the identity of our thief!" The consulting detective grabbed a handful of the cloak the thief wore, and with a dramatic movement, ripped it away.

An impish grin tainted with a hint of insanity and cunning and evil greeted them. They all gasped, moving back a step in surprise.

"It can't be-"said the good Doctor.

"It is!" breathed Bob Cratchit.

"It is none other than James Morairty, the world's only Consulting Criminal!" finished The Detective.

"Ello Sherlock! Long time no see!" he giggled.

Sherlock, determined to not let the man escape again, wasted no time in arresting him and taking him to Detective Lestrade for the rest of the work. When all was done and over, Bob Cratchit invited his dear friends Watson and Holmes to dinner with his family and Ebenezer Scrooge. And Tiny Tim loved his roasted Chestnuts and savored their taste. A rare treat indeed for the tiny boy.

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**So… I hope you guys enjoyed this edge –of- your-seat -adventure! ^^ lol lemme know what you think! **


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